


The Third Date Rule

by ratatat



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff, Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, Trans Martin Blackwood, author mocks stupid dating rules for 6k words straight, criticizing cisnormativity and allonormativity through fanficition, fun marine science facts, it's my comfort character and i get to chose the trans headcanon, local area men are so in love they forget to communicate, some mentions of transphobia (notes will have more info), takes place during season 2 but everything works out fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratatat/pseuds/ratatat
Summary: The Third Date Rule: The basic principle that you wait until the third date to have sex with someone.Neither Martin or Jon were aware of this rule until hours before their third date. Both of them forgot to tell the other some really important information that would've come in handy before the third date.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 37
Kudos: 349





	The Third Date Rule

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, first I'd like to say thanks so much for reading this! It really means the world to me!
> 
> Secondly, the transphobia: the transphobia is fairly light and non descriptive. It's mostly Martin assuming Jon will reject him and recollecting various different times he's dealt with transphobia while dating, but there's no form of sexual harassment or anything like that. 
> 
> HOWEVER, there is a lot of talk, from both sides, about how they assume the other person won't want to date them anymore because of their identities (this obviously isn't true). If that's something that bothers you I suggest skipping this and reading something else. 
> 
> I'd also like to say that while I am trans, I'm not ace, and I talk a lot about Jon's asexuality, so if at any point I get something wrong, please, please tell me and I'll fix it as soon as I can! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I hope you like it!

Martin is not panicking. He is absolutely, totally not panicking. He is perfectly calm and collected, and this date is going to go perfectly. He is going to go to dinner with Jon after work, and they are going to have a great time, and then Martin is going tell him, and then-

Oh God, Martin is going to have to tell him. Oh, this is bad, very bad.

In all fairness, Martin assumed he would have more time. And yeah, maybe it was selfish not to tell Jon right away, but still. He would have time, and it’s not like they’ve done anything other than kissed (Martin gives himself a moment to swoon over the fact that he and Jon _kissed_ ) or held hands. It’s not like he hasn’t dated anyone else, and he’s had the “I’m Trans By The Way I Hope That’s Not A Dealbreaker Because I Really Like You” talk before, with responses varying from “Please Never Talk To Me Again” (bad) and “That Actually Makes Me Want You _More_ ” (also bad, but in a different way than the first). So at least Martin knew, more or less, what to _say_ , he has an entire script he’s been slowly writing in his mind and preparing any questions Jon might have, but he just thought he’d have more time before dropping that major bomb.

It’s just that he was chatting to Tim this morning in the break room while making tea, and he rambled a bit about how excited he was and how well he and Jon were getting on, when Tim said with a sly grin, “Oh, this’ll be your third date, right?”

“Yeah! We’re going to this Thai place a few blocks away from Jon’s flat and-”

“Oooh, Jon’s _flat_?” Tim waggled his eyebrows. “Didn’t know Jon had it in him, to be honest.”

“I-er-I-what?” Martin stuttered. His face must be bright red, oh God.

“Martin, you _do_ know what the third date means, right?”

Martin did not, in fact, know what the third date means, but he can guess from the smirk on Tim’s face that the third date means sex. Which means that Jon’s going to want to see him naked, which was terrifying for multiple reasons, the major one being that Martin was trans and also had some minor insecurities about his body (cis gay men can be very critical of anyone who doesn’t fit the stereotypical masculine body type for reasons Martin still can’t understand). And Martin _still hasn’t told him_.

See, if Martin were smart, he would’ve done this on the first date. If he was super smart, it would’ve been the first thing out of his mouth after Jon had approached him two weeks ago while he was making copies, accidentally bumped into the copy machine, swore, and then stuttered out something resembling a “would you like to go out sometime with me please” before speed walking away and awkwardly bumping into the side of the door, leaving Martin to chase after him to make sure he heard Jon correctly.

But Martin was a romantic, alright? And he was so smitten with Jon and smitten with the way Jon gave a tentative smile after Martin agreed to get ice cream that Saturday and smitten with the way Jon had ice cream smeared on the corners of his mouth and the way he laughed and smitten with basically everything about Jon that he had forgotten that being trans was a dealbreaker for most people. It was hard to remember the Don’t Get Attached Until After You Tell Them rule when Jon grabbed his hand and looked into his eyes and asked “is this ok?” as if there were ever a time where Martin _didn’t_ want to hold his hand.

But now there is apparently some Third Date Rule Martin had either forgotten about or had been added since the last time Martin went on a date a few years ago, and he had run out of time to tell Jon. Which means he would have to tell him. Tonight. Either during dinner or after, when they were presumably going to walk back to his apartment. To have sex. Because that’s what you do on a third date, according to Tim, who’s been on so many dates that he probably knows every single spoken and unspoken dating rule like the back of his hand.

So yeah. Martin is definitely, absolutely, not panicking about the fact that the man he’s been pining over for a good year and a half might reject him tonight. This date is going to be fine. Absolutely fine.

\---

Jon is at his desk, staring down at a statement he honestly could not bring himself to care about. He allows himself a little laugh over the fact that there has finally been something that he cares about more than work. He then starts to panic, because of course that thing is Martin. Martin, the man Jon used to hate the most and who made his work life the most difficult. Martin, who Jon had fallen so fast for after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the archives it left him dizzy. Martin, who didn’t know that Jon was ace because Jon hasn’t told him yet. 

Jon doesn’t really date people- that tends to happen when you're both a bit of a prick and a workaholic and also terrified of vulnerability. There hadn’t really been time since Jon became Head Archivist, but he also couldn’t bring himself to care about dating that much. The idea of specifically looking for someone to be romantically involved with has always sounded weird to Jon. How are you supposed to know if you want to date the person because you like them or just because you want to date someone for the sake of it?

Jon is sure he wants to date Martin because he’s _Martin_ \- honestly Jon has no idea how he ever thought bad of him. How was there a time where Jon hated the tea Martin gave him instead of feeling disgustingly warm and pleased whenever he found it sitting on his desk?

Jon remembers the time he saw Sasha wearing a crudely knitted blue scarf and asking her where she got it.

“Oh, Martin knitted it for me! I’ve been complaining about the weather while going out researching statements so he gave me it as a gift!” Sasha smiled so widely Jon thought she was going to burst. At the time, Jon dismissed it as Martin trying to make up for his truly terrible work performance or using Sasha as a tester to see how people responded to his truly terrible gifts.

Over the past month, however, as the archives became colder and colder, Jon began daydreaming about Martin coming into his office with tea and a pair of hand-knit gloves. “To keep your hands warm as you sort through statements,” Dream-Martin would tell him, and Dream-Jon would be flattered and grab Dream-Martin’s hand and ask, without stuterring, if he wanted to get tea outside the office sometime, to which Dream-Martin would laugh and say “Of course, Jon,” as he rubbed his thumb across Jon’s hand.

There were multiple other daydreams Jon found himself indulging in, and it started to worry him. Having an… infatuation with a coworker, while inappropriate, was fine. But thinking that Martin looks good in glasses whenever his contacts run out and wondering how Martin would describe Jon’s eyes in a poem were two completely different types of infatuation.

It bothered him so much he took to asking Georgie what she thought of the entire thing, to which she laughed and told him to go for it. “He sounds nice, Jon. Like, _ridiculously_ nice. The fact that he’s single is a crime, really.”

Jon frowned. “He is ‘ridiculously nice’. That’s the _problem_. He wouldn’t be so distracting if he stopped doing things like making tea and knitting coworkers scarves.”

“And do you think he’d stop being distracting if you asked him out?”

“No, no. I’m not doing that. It’s inappropriate and a bad idea.”

“Probably not, if you bothered to check what HR says about dating coworkers-”

“There’s no rules about dating coworkers.” he protested.

Georgie grinned. “Ok, so you don’t want to date him, but you happen to know off hand that there’s no rules against dating someone in the office?”

Jon scowled. “Shut up, Georgie.”

It worked out fine, in the end. Despite Jon’s truly disastrous attempt at asking Martin out for ice cream, Martin said yes, and it was one of the best evenings Jon can remember, even though he kicked himself for suggesting _ice cream_ in the middle of _November_. When Martin chased Jon back to his office and asked what exactly “going out with him sometime” meant, Jon never expected him to say _yes_ , which is why Jon panicked and picked the first thing that came to mind, which may or may not have been influenced by the fact that Jon had been idly wondering what flavor of ice cream was Martin’ favorite for the past week.

Even though Jon’s date suggestion was terrible, it was a good date. They held hands and Martin even kissed his cheek before walking home, his face bright red (Jon was sure his face wasn’t much better).

Jon had been so over the moon for the past two weeks that he found himself googling “fun date ideas” after only their second date to the movies. Jon didn’t remember what movie they even watched, nor did he care, because the second they exited the theater Martin looked at him, took his face in his hands, and asked “Can I kiss you?” before Jon nodded and Martin kissed him so delicately Jon thought he was going to turn into a pile of sludge on the sidewalk. Jon never considered himself a very sappy or sentimental person, but Martin was doing something to him. It was all Martin’s knitting and bread baking and spider cooing and poetry rambling that was quickly turning Jon into someone who seriously considers buying a picnic basket for the sole purpose of having a sunset picnic with Martin. He hated it. He also loved it. And picnic baskets were surprisingly cheap.

When Jon googled “good third date ideas” and came across something called the Third Date Rule, his heart sank. He had been having such a good time that he had forgotten that sex was an expectation for most people. That they couldn’t live without it (they totally could, Jon thought bitterly, since no one had ever _died_ from lack of sex, but apparently it was a _need_. Jon has a feeling that if he ever pointed out that most people went anywhere from 15-25 years without having sex and managed their “need” just fine, people would get very mad at him). Of course Martin wanted sex. And of course he would probably be expecting it too, if this Third Date Rule was anything to go by. Jon remembers telling Martin that the Thai restaurant was close to his flat and resists the urge to slam his head on his desk- of course _now_ Martin was expecting it! He probably thought they would go to his apartment after dinner, because why else would Jon mention his flat!

And now he was going to have to have the awkward Ace Conversation. Jon had never done it before- he never had the words to explain to Georgie what he felt, and he never really dated after her- but after some research a few years ago after figuring out he was asexual, he came across a script to explain it to partners. Jon scoffed at it at the time, but now he desperately wishes he remembers exactly where he found it.

Right. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Jon supposes he could live off one kiss and two good dates for a few years. He went all those years without dating anyone, and he can do it again. It hurts, but so did breaking up with Georgie, and he’s fine now. Jon sighs and rubs his hands over his face. No point in lying to himself: this is going to hurt. He really likes Martin, and he doesn’t think he’ll stop anytime soon. But Martin deserves to know. Jon has a feeling the Ace Conversation was supposed to happen on the first date anyway, but Jon had forgotten because he let his feelings get in the way of practicality. Just another reason why he shouldn’t let emotions get in the way of his relationships.

Jon shakes his head and stares at the statement again. Maybe recording will get his mind off things.

“Statement of Rosemary Walsh, regarding a stranger in her apartment complex,” Jon starts. Pretty soon he’ll get into the swing of things, forget his worries and let the statement take over his thoughts. “Statement beings…”

\---

It was 4:55. Five minutes before Martin’s third and probably final date with the only man he’s been interested in in forever. He hadn’t gotten much work done since Tim told him about that Third Date Rule. He worked himself into a frenzy, remembering every time he was rejected because of being trans. He even remembers the years he was closeteted, the way he rejected his coworker from his brief job at a grocery store, and still wanting so, so badly to go on a date with him. He was pretty, Martin remembered. He played the piano and stole cans of wet cat food to feed the stray that wandered around his flat. Martin remembers his first ever relationship that lasted a whole three months, with a guy he met off Grindr who called Martin a pretty boy even though Martin told him it made him uncomfortable. He remembered hating the way he- his name was either Adam or Ashton, and Martin honestly doesn’t care to remember- was resistant to the idea of Martin getting on T and telling Martin that he should be grateful, really, because not a lot of gay guys went for people like Martin. It was only three months but it was enough to put Martin off dating for a year at least.

God, Martin was going to _cry_. He was in love with Jon, and wasn’t going to tell him for a few months at least, but the idea of throwing away this entire relationship just because of Martin’s body made him want to throw up.

He started bargaining with himself. Maybe Jon didn’t know what those twin scars on his chest were- not a lot of people did. He could say it was from heart surgery, or a car crash or something. Maybe he could tell Jon that he had an emergency at his flat and stuff a strap on into his backpack and bring it with him and- wait. He doesn’t have a strap on. Shit.

It was stupid, Martin thought bitterly. It didn’t _really_ matter, and he never fully understood why cis people were so adamant about trans people disclosing private information. He doubts cis men with small dicks have to tell their partner that before having sex. But cis people were cis people, and Jon, as far as he knew, was cis, which meant that he probably thought the same. It doesn’t matter that there’s ways to have sex other than what most cis people think, it doesn’t even matter that you can have a relationship _without_ sex (that one always seems to trip people up for some reason), it just comes down to this stupid idea that trans people _owe it_ to cis people to explain themselves. And that they can’t complain when rejection comes because cis people have every right to reject a trans person, but a trans person can’t even have a fun time without telling a cis person first.

Martin stops his train of thought. Maybe, just maybe, Jon would be okay with it. He’s already bisexual (Martin has to forcibly stop himself from remembering every time a bisexual person has told him he’s “the best of both worlds” in order for this idea to work) which means he probably knows about trans people. Which means he wouldn’t be opposed to Martin being one. Which means that maybe he’ll get to date Jon and even kiss him a few more times. No, no. Martin is usually an optimist, but he has to remind himself to be realistic about this. Jon most likely isn’t going to want him anymore. And he has to accept that.

4:59. He can hear Jon getting up from his desk and shuffling some papers around. Martin figures he has a good hour before the best relationship of his life is over, but he doubts that’s enough time to get over it before Jon breaks up with him.

Jon pokes his head out of the door. “Martin?” he asks. He looks sad and tired, but then again, Jon always does. “Are you ready to go?”

Martin nods. “Yeah. Just let me put away some stuff first.” He takes a good look at Jon, just for when the relationship ends and Martin’s back to pining. Jon’s hair is pulled back in a bun, surprisingly neat, like he took the time to pin it instead of just using it as a means to get it out of his face. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a green woolen coat. His pants actually fit and his shoes are shined instead of scuffed. It occurs to Martin that Jon put himself together to impress him, and that thought alone is enough to make his eyes water.

“Martin, are you alright?” Jon asks.

He clears his throat and coughs a little for good measure. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just a little dusty in here, is all.”

\---

As they walk towards the Tube, Jon debates with himself over whether or not to hold Martin’s hand. On one hand (Jon scowls at the pun) this will be the last time he’ll ever get to do it. On the other, it isn’t really fair to give Martin the idea that their relationship will last beyond tonight. And besides, Martin will be mad at him for not telling him sooner. It’s easier to distance himself now so Martin doesn’t get false hope that Jon can give him something more. But also, Martin’s hands are so soft and warm, and Jon’s are very cold. He thinks again to his Martin Gives Jon A Pair Of Gloves daydream and realizes that he’ll probably never get any handmade gifts from Martin now. He stuffs his hands inside his pockets instead.

He realizes with a start that usually Martin would start talking by now. He was supposed to tell Jon about his latest attempts at baking chocolate bread, rambling about the rise of the dough and the proving and complaining that his oven always cooked the bread a little wonky. Instead he was strangely silent, his gaze ahead of them instead of looking at Jon.

Fear gripped Jon’s heart. Did Martin know already? Was he going to break up with him the second they reached the restaurant? An image of himself eating alone in a busy restaurant played in his mind. No, no, he reminded himself. Nobody at the Institute knows. He hasn’t said anything to anyone, not out of shame, but because it really was none of their business, the same way none of them knew that he was secretly a fan of Ghost Hunt UK. And Martin didn’t know that about him either.

He glances over at Martin. He’s always so… adorable. His curly hair and his freckles. Those freckles really are the bane of his existence. Jon’s lost count of how many times he’s thought about kissing them (seriously, when did he become such a sap). They’ve hugged exactly once but Jon remembers how safe he felt in Martin’s arms and he wishes he could hug him again. It’s not bad to look, right? He’s still in a relationship with Martin, he’s allowed to look. He won’t be in about an hour or so, so he’d better get his fill in now.

Maybe Martin was in a bad mood. He looked a little upset when he and Jon left the Institute. Maybe something happened with his mother? Jon can cheer him up; he’s not sure exactly how, but there must be a way. Martin would probably be upset with him anyway, but that doesn’t change the fact that Martin should feel bad _right now_.

The problem was that Jon was never any good at comfort, though not for lack of trying. He just never had any idea what to say. It always came up jumbled and wrong and eventually he gave up trying. But he had to try for Martin, there was no way he could just leave him suffering.

“Did you know that narwhals don’t have horns?” Is what he decides on, and it’s so horrendously stupid that he almost kicks himself before Martin stops and looks at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Sorry, what?”

“Narwhals don’t have horns. The large thing that comes out of their heads is a tooth.”

“A _tooth_?” And Martin doesn’t look so upset anymore, instead trying to wrap his head around some truly disturbing information.

Jon is relieved. At least he can distract Martin from whatever is bothering him by launching into an explanation that not only do narwhals have a large tooth, it’s also technically inside out since the nerve endings are on the outside. Martin listens to him the entire way on the Tube as they make their way to the restaurant.

\---

Martin is so stupid. So, so stupid. Really, he should blame Jon, even though he knows that’s not fair. He was winding up the courage to say something when Jon started talking to him about narwhal facts, and Martin was both sorely confused (“How does a tooth _grow_ like that?”) and caught up in how excited Jon looked to be lecturing him on something. Jon was so adorable when he got into his lecturing moods. His glasses would skip off his face a little and he would get so animated that he’d forget to push them back up.

Martin had a whole script planned. He would have to skip the original plan, which was stopping Jon on the sidewalk, explaining everything to him in a very polite and kind way, making sure not to betray how heartbroken he was, and then walk the other way so it wouldn’t be awkward. But now he was busy in an in-depth conversation with Jon about the weirdest deep ocean sea creatures while on the Tube and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to bring it up now.

Jon won’t hold his hand when they get off the Tube, and Martin tries to not read anything into it. _Focus on the fact that the giant squid has eyes the size of dinner plates_ , he tells himself, but it only soothes his nerves until they enter the restaurant and order their food.

They talk a bit more. Martin knows this is the last time he’ll probably ever get to hear Jon talk about the importance of hydrothermal vents, so he lets his news sit in the back of his mind while Jon starts his rant about how evil it is that humans are starting to harvest minerals from some deep sea vents.

The waiter comes and gives them their food, and finally there is a lull in the conversation. Martin swallows. Right. Now was as good a time as ever.

“So, this is our third date, isn’t it?” He asks. _Shit. What a stupid thing to say_.

Jon tenses. “Yes, it is.” he says, staring at his plate.

“Right, right. Well, uh, I guess I should probably tell you something then. Before we, uh, go back to yours.” God, this is so awkward and embarrassing. Martin hates every second of it.

Jon somehow manages to look even _more_ uncomfortable than he already was. He sighs. “Martin, I should probably tell you something first.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you go first. It’s fine.” Martin wants to scream. What does Jon want to tell him? Maybe his flat is dirty? That’s fine, Martin doesn’t care!

A few seconds pass and Martin is starting to sweat. Half a minute passes. Martin says nothing. A full minute, when finally, Jon opens his mouth to speak.

“I think we should break up,” Jon says slowly, as though he’s been thinking about this for some time. His voice is devoid of its usual warmth. He sounds the same as when Martin first started working in the Archives: professional and polite, but not really wanting to talk to him any longer than necessary.

Martin’s thoughts come to a stop. _Break up? Why? What did I do? Does he already know and he’s letting me down easy? Wait-break up_?

Martin wants to say something nice. A “that’s alright” or a “can I ask why?”. Instead what comes out is-

“We’re dating?!”

They hadn’t exactly talked about what they were before, and Martin assumed that they would have that conversation eventually, instead of Jon jumping straight into breaking up without even telling him they were properly dating. But then again, this is Jon. Martin should have expected this. He knew they were dating, but there was a difference between going on two dates and dating enough to have to tell the other person you’re breaking up with them instead of just never talking to them again.

“I-er…. Yes? I assumed that, since you agreed to go on two dates with me, that that counts as dating.” Jon says. “Unless… unless you don’t want to?”

“No, no!” Martin says. “I want to date you! And be your… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever, really, I just want to be yours-” Jon chokes on something, despite not having drank his water- “I-I mean! I did! Want to date you! Until just now! Since we’re breaking up! Which is fine, really, I get it!”

“I just… I don’t think we’re going to be very compatible,” Jon sighs. “It’s not you, really. It’s more my fault.”

“No, no, I get it!” Martin tries to explain. He doesn’t want Jon to feel _guilty_. “People are allowed to have preferences! I don’t mind, really!”

Jon makes a face, like Martin has said something he finds offensive. “It’s not really a preference. It’s more just… a part of me. I have a preference for tea but I can still drink coffee. This isn’t really a preference; it’s just the way I am.”

Martin’s heart sinks. So this is beyond preference. Jon was one of those people. The “I Could Never Date A Trans Person, No Matter What” people. Christ, how did he go for so long without knowing Jon was transphobic? This hurts way more than the polite rejection he was expecting.

“That’s okay too!” he says, even though he wants to run into the bathroom and cry. “I just- can I ask when you figured it out?”

“When I figured it out?” Jon looks puzzled. “Umm… I guess when I was… 8? All my classmates were teasing me about tagging a girl on the playground and I didn’t understand why that was important. Or maybe when we had sex education when I was 14?”

 _What_?

“Sorry, sorry,” Martin cuts him off. “Your sex ed talked about trans people?”

“Martin, what do transgender people have to do with anything?”

“I’m asking when you figured out that _I_ was trans, Jon, not when- what are you even talking about?!” Martin had no idea what was happening, and it was clear Jon didn’t either.

“You’re transgender?” Jon asks.

“Jon, you’re literally _breaking up with me_ \- without telling me that we were dating, by the way- _because I’m trans_. Yes, I’m transgender, I thought you knew! Why else would you be breaking up with me right now?!”

\---

Jon was completely lost. First of all, Martin had apparently _not_ known that Jon was ace, and still hasn’t caught on. Additionally, Martin also didn’t know that they were even dating- a mistake on Jon’s part, he should’ve made that clearer. He really thought they were on the same page about this, but Martin appears to be reading a whole different book, because apparently Martin thinks that Jon wants to break up with him for being transgender- which Jon didn’t even know until two seconds ago.

He sighs. He can’t beat around the bush any longer, it seems.

“Right,” he pushes the food on his plate back and forth for a moment. “I’m breaking up with you because I’m asexual. Basically, I’m not interested in having sex. At all. And I know that you probably want to, especially since this is the third date. So, I’m sorry for leading you on without meaning to. This has nothing to do with you being trans, and I didn’t even know that until you told me, but that doesn’t affect my decision in any way. I’m sorry, Martin,” he stands up, trying to run out of the building to avoid Martin’s response. Was he angry? Or disappointed? Jon doesn’t know which would be worse.

“Jon, wait-” Martin grabs on to his wrist, and oh, Jon hates the way his heart still speeds up at that.

“Martin, really, it’s _fine_ -”

“Jon, you got to do your big speech and I still haven’t, so can you just sit down and let me talk, please?”

Jon sits back down. This was humiliating. What did Martin want? To make a fool out of him? To tell him, right here and right now, what Jon already knows?

“Martin, if you’re just going to tell me I just haven’t found the right person, then-”

“ _Jon_.”

He sighs. “Alright.”

“I- ok, I don’t know if this is… normal? I mean, nothing about this is normal-” Martin huffs out a laugh- “but I don’t really care? Not-not about the fact that you’re ace, of course I care about that! I mean, it’s ok if we never do that kind of stuff. For me, it’s like, like an expression of love, almost? It’s, it’s like the same way I’m knitting you some socks right now or the way I bring you tea in the morning. It doesn’t matter what the act _is_ , as long as I get to show you I love you in _some_ way. And if you don’t like it, I’ll find another way to show you. Does that make sense?”

Jon is dead. That’s what this is. There was an accident on the Tube, and the train crashed, and now he’s dead. Martin loves him, apparently. Loves him enough to knit Jon socks, loves him enough to bring him tea in the morning. Marin _loves Jon_ , somehow, and he doesn’t even consider Jon’s sexuality a thing worth worrying about.

“You love me?”

“Oh, shit!” Martin jumps from his seat. “Shit, I didn’t mean to tell you, I’m sorry! That’s too much, isn’t it? I didn’t- it’s ok if you don’t love me back, I don’t mind, it’s nothing, really, I’m so, so-”

“Martin-”

“Really, I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I said that, I know it’s too much to soon-”

“Martin-”

“And also are the socks too much? I can just give them to my neighbor, I know you probably don’t want them now, it’s fine-”

“MARTIN!”

Martin shuts up, his face pale.

“I, uh, it’s alright” Jon’s mouth is dry. Why is he so afraid? “I love you, too.”

“Oh,” Martin has a soft smile on his face, and _good Lord_ Jon really was in love with him. “That’s… that’s good then.”

“So, just to make sure we’re on the same page here,” Martin laughs, looking at Jon the way he does, like Jon’s the most important person in the world, like he- well, like he loves him, “I love you, and don’t care that you’re ace. You love me, and don’t care that I’m trans. And we’ve apparently been in a relationship for two weeks without me knowing. Is there anything else we should tell each other before we break up because of our poor communication skills?”

“Oh, you still want to-”

“It was a joke, Jon.”

“Oh, right, right.” Jon considers this for a moment. “I don’t think I’m hiding anything else.”

“Really?” Martin’s face is so soft, is it weird Jon wants to cradle his face in his hands? “No food allergies, no history of heart disease, no specific fantasies? Well, I suppose you wouldn't have that last one-”

“Gloves,” Jon mumbles, only slightly embarrassed.

“What?”

“I, er… might have been thinking about you knitting me gloves. Instead of socks. The socks sound nice too, though, please don’t-”

“Jon, I love you,” _Oh God, Martin loves me_. “I’ll knit you an entire wardrobe if you want. Gloves will be fine.”

\---

They do end up in Jon’s flat, in the end. Jon is sitting on his sofa while Martin is in the kitchen making them tea and he looks so soft wrapped up in a blanket and so invested in whatever nature documentary they were watching that Martin desperately wants to be better at poetry so he can write something about the way Jon makes him feel. He supposes that he’ll have plenty of time to practice, if Jon sitting on a couch is enough to make him want to compose 20 different sonnets.

Jon smiles when Martin brings him his tea, and Martin loves him. He can say it now, and he does, and he watches Jon’s face blush as he says “Love you, too” and now he wants to compose 20 _more_ poems about the shape of Jon’s mouth alone.

“Is kissing ok?” Martin asks when Jon puts down his cup.

“What?”

“Are you alright with kissing? I don’t want to make any assumptions, but is kissing also something you have no interest in?”

“No, no. Kissing is fine. More than fine, really-” Jon’s words wither away when Martin cups his face. His face is shocked but he doesn’t look scared. He looks almost awestruck, as if Martin is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. _Jon loves you_ Martin remembers, and the thought makes him so giddy he has no idea how he’ll get through the night without dying of a heart attack.

“So I can kiss you then? Like right now?” Martin’s blushing and he’s amazed that he can even form a coherent sentence right now.

Jon nods, seemingly at a loss for words. Martin leans forward and lightly presses his lips to Jon’s. Jon sighs, bringing his hands to Martin’s hair, and oh that feels nice. They’ve already kissed once and it left Martin floating on a cloud of happiness for at least two days, but this was something new. It was probably because, Martin thought as Jon’s hand moved down to touch his cheek, they’d somehow managed to fully communicate their feelings for each other without dying _or_ breaking up.

Martin laughs into Jon’s mouth, causing Jon to pull away and look at him in confusion. “What’s so funny?” he asks, and the way his nose scrunches and his forehead wrinkles makes Martin fall in love with him a little bit more.

Martin leans forward and kisses Jon on the nose, relishing in the surprised sound Jon makes. “We’re really, really bad at communicating our feelings, aren’t we?” he says.

Jon smiles. “We are,” he agrees. “But we managed to get through it.”

“I just…,” Martin’s fully laughing now, his head on Jon’s shoulder. “You almost broke up with me! Because you assumed I wouldn't want to be with you! Without you even asking me!”

Jon was laughing, too, his hand coming up to rest on the small of Martin’s back. “Well you were prepared to get broken up with without asking me why! You just assumed!”

“I was nervous! Tim told me about some third date rule thing and I was sweating all day! I was fully prepared to go back to awkward, one sided conversations with you!”

“You know,” Jon said after they’ve calmed down a bit. “I don’t think we should take dating advice from people who aren’t us. Look where it’s gotten us. I mean, who even decided that the third date was the one where you were supposed to go back to your date’s flat?”

“God, there’s even worse ones, if you can believe it.”

“I’ve seen them. When I was researching date ideas I came across a few. Did you know there’s people who wait two weeks before asking their partner to go on another date?”

“Well, we failed at that one,” Martin smiled. “We failed probably every single dating rule that’s ever been made at this point.”

“Is it bad that I can’t bring myself to care?” Jon asks as Martin sits up and brings one arm around him, holding him to his chest.

“Honestly, I think most of those rules are trash anyway. Two weeks?! If you didn’t talk to me for two weeks after our first date I would’ve assumed you hated me!”

Jon laughs, trying to focus back on the documentary playing on his TV. “There’s probably some rule out there about not admitting that you love your partner until the 15th date, honestly.”

“Oh no, Jon,” Martin says sarcastically. “I can’t believe I’ve broken the sacred dating rules! We can’t be together anymore, for I have committed the worst dating faux paux!”

Jon smiles and reaches up to kiss him one more time before settling back in to watch the documentary. Martin feels him shiver as a spider comes on screen.

“Really, Jon? After all my rants about how spiders are important to the ecosystem?”

“They can be important to the ecosystem while staying out of my sight, Martin.”

“Well, as your new partner,” Martin feels his heart flutter at saying those words, “who loves you even more than spiders, I vow to protect you from a spider on a TV screen that lives thousands of miles away in the Amazon.”

“My hero,” Jon jokes. “You’re the only one for me, how could I ever live without you?”

“Honestly if I wasn’t there to bring you tea in the mornings you’d probably have died of malnutrition by now.”

Jon scoffs. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself without your tea!”

“Wow, Jon. How dare a man take care of his boyfriend who he loves very much? How truly awful of him to care about his boyfriend’s well being!”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Jon grumbles. “And I love you too.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Martin realizes something.

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“What exactly were you researching when you came across those rules?”

“Oh you know… just some… date ideas…” Jon trails off.

“Date ideas? Like what? A picnic?” Martin teases.

Jon’s face turns red again. “I might have… bought a picnic basket a few days ago…”

Martin falls in love with Jon just a little bit more.


End file.
